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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28538463">Pace and a Fury Defiant</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/svedone/pseuds/svedone'>svedone</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Ancient Greek Religion &amp; Lore, The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(kind of), Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, RA Patroclus, Slow Burn, look i'm writing patrochilles fanfiction what else did you expect, no beta we just die, this is so self indulgent just an fyi, yes the title is from achilles come down</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:33:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>17,196</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28538463</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/svedone/pseuds/svedone</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Patroclus is a new RA. Achilles is his resident. And they definitely, totally shouldn't date, despite Achilles' stupidly perfect face and Patroclus' utter gay panic.</p><p>-</p><p>updates sundays!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Achilles/Patroclus, Achilles/Patroclus (Song of Achilles), Achilles/Patroclus of Opus (Ancient Greek Religion &amp; Lore)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>105</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>174</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Hottie Incoming</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this is so self indulgent lol.</p><p>pat is a sophomore, achilles is a freshman, and everyone is at least bi because as an author reality can be whatever i want</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The silence of the common room is strangely comforting. As Pat works on the floor’s beginning-of-the-year bulletin board, he relishes in it. Normally he’d play music while he worked, but as this is his last chance at a little bit of peace before all of the freshman started moving in the next day, he wants to take advantage of it.</p><p>Pat sighs, looking down at his miserable attempt at making one of the school’s most recognizable buildings out of colored construction paper. He hadn’t realized that being an RA would involve so much arts and crafts.</p><p>Pulling out his phone, he types a quick text to his best friend and (thankfully) fellow RA, Briseis.</p><p><strong>       pat: </strong>i need your help</p><p><strong>       <span class="u">bri:</span> </strong>are you still working on the bulletin board?</p><p><strong>       <span class="u">bri:</span> </strong>we were supposed to have that done a few days ago</p><p><strong>       pat: </strong>that’s beside the point</p><p><strong>       pat: </strong>my skills with construction paper are very much lacking, to say the least</p><p><strong>       pat: </strong>please?</p><p>He watches the screen for a few moments before exhaling in defeat and putting his phone down. Briseis is probably busy preparing her floor for tomorrow. He resigns himself to finish cutting his sorry excuse for a building when the door to the common room swings open.</p><p>“Wow, you weren’t joking,” Briseis grins, looking down at the sprawl of paper and markers. “This is pretty bad.”</p><p>“Thanks,” Pat deadpans.</p><p>“Just being honest. What do you need me to do?”</p><p>He looks down again. “Is it bad if I say everything?”</p><p>Briseis rolls her eyes, but the playful smile on her face reveals that she isn’t actually all that mad. “What would you do without me, Pat?” She sits down across from him, grabbing construction paper and sketching out the building Pat had tried (and failed) to recreate. It becomes apparent rather quickly that Bri was much, <em>much </em>better at this than him.</p><p>“I don’t know. Probably die, or something.” She laughs at this as she reaches for the scissors.</p><p>It’s quiet again, with only the sound of Briseis cutting out the picture and Patroclus rustling through the papers. It’s all superficial info, really, reminders to get a head start on classes and speak with Pat if they had any issues.</p><p>“So,” Briseis says lightly, her eyes still on the paper in front of her, “you gonna get laid this year?”</p><p>Patroclus sputters, nearly choking on his own spit, as he looks up at his best friend with wide eyes. “Jesus, Bri, is this your attempt at making conversation?”</p><p>“Nice job at avoiding the question.”</p><p>“Thanks, I’m pretty good at avoiding things.”</p><p>She rolls her eyes again, finally setting down her scissors to look at him fully. “I know you think I’m joking, but I’m not. You were <em>miserable </em>last year, always so stressed about classes and whether or not you would get this job.” Briseis resumes her cutting, examining her work as she finished the construction paper building. “All I’m saying is getting your back blown out would probably do you some good.”</p><p>Pat snorts at this, snatching what she had just finished cutting out and beginning to paste it to another piece of paper. “Somehow I don’t think getting my—having—I don’t think that would solve all my problems,” he rushes out. Briseis was usually like this; she had much less shame than him, to put it lightly, and one of her favorite pastimes was taking an interest in Pat’s love life (or lack thereof).</p><p>She simply shrugs. “Maybe not <em>all </em>of them, but it might help. It would help you unwind, at least. Who knows, maybe there’ll be some cute freshmen tomorrow.”</p><p>“First, that would be <em>incredibly </em>inappropriate to try to—to—<em>seduce </em>one of my residents. It’s not exactly consensual when I have authority over them. Second, I doubt any of them would want to get with someone like me when the whole world is now their oyster.”</p><p>“God, you sound like you’re fifty, saying ‘seduce’ like that. Also, they could be living on another floor,” she points out. “I agree that it would be a little weird, but come <em>on, </em>Pat, you’re a nineteen-year-old RA, not their professor. You don’t hold that much power over them. But if it makes you that uncomfortable, I won’t push it. And I definitely won’t text you about any cute boys tomorrow.”</p><p>“…I mean, it doesn’t hurt anybody to know that they’re cute.”</p><p>Briseis only smiles knowingly at that, and they revert back to a comfortable silence. Perhaps this year wouldn’t be that bad, Pat thinks to himself. Sure, last year was stressful, but everyone’s first year is. He’s a little surer of himself now, both academically and personally. And, hey, maybe Briseis would finally get her wish, and Pat would be comfortable enough to put himself out there and, as she so bluntly put it, get his back blown out.</p><p>“Wait, why does it have to be me getting my back blown out? Maybe I’ll be the one blowing someone else’s back out.”</p><p>Briseis bursts into raucous laughter at that, and he can’t help but smile in return. Yeah, he has a good feeling about this year.</p><p>-</p><p>The next morning, he wakes up much earlier than he would’ve liked to. Pat’s on check-in duty, and while the freshmen wouldn’t start arriving until eight, he has to meet with the other RAs in the building to go over the day’s logistics.</p><p>By the time he arrives to the first-floor lounge, the rest of the RAs are already there. Thankfully, Briseis had saved him a seat, so he hurries to take it before they begin.</p><p>“Patroclus. How nice of you to finally join us,” a voice at the front of the room all but sneers. Agamemnon was the building’s head RA, being the only senior among them. He was huge, looming over the rest of them like a giant. For some reason, he had immediately taken a disliking to Pat, going as far to call him his full name (which he despised, since Agamemnon never said it correctly). “We can get started now.”</p><p>“You all know your assignments, yes?” He continues, to which they all nodded. Patroclus and another RA are on sign-in duty, while Briseis and a few others were tasked with helping the freshmen load up their belongings in carts outside. He definitely doesn’t envy her, since he would get to sit down most of the day while she would be standing out in the hot sun. “Make sure you’re watching the appliances they bring in. And they <em>have </em>to sign their emergency contact card when they pick up their key, so don’t forget that.” Agamemnon levels him with a piercing glare, and Pat has to fight to not to roll his eyes.</p><p>He zones out as Agamemnon answers some questions. He’d be glad when all of this hecticness was over, and he could settle in for the year. Of course, Pat’s looking forward to meeting his residents, but he’d rather do that naturally than having to plaster a strained smile on his face as he checked hundreds of freshmen in over the course of the next few days.</p><p>The movement of everyone around him startles Pat out of his reverie, and he quickly moves to get up. “Patroclus, a word, please.”</p><p>He stops in the doorway before turning around to face Agamemnon. “What’s up?”</p><p>“My brother, Menelaus, is on your floor this year. Unfortunately, it was deemed a conflict of interest to have him on mine. Keep an eye on him for me, okay?”</p><p>Pat blinks in surprise. He hadn’t thought Agamemnon was capable of anything even resembling compassion, but maybe family was an exception. “Uh, yeah. I’ll make sure he’s alright.”</p><p>“You misunderstand.” His gaze hardens as he looked at Pat. “If he fucks up, I want you to tell me so I can discipline him personally.”</p><p>All he can do is nod once before turning around and heading to the table set up in the lobby. He silently tells himself that for the sake of this kid, he would <em>not </em>be telling Agamemnon anything, even if Menelaus did something against the rules. The look in the older RA’s eyes was enough to tell him that whatever his younger brother did, it wasn’t worth the “discipline” that Agamemnon had planned.</p><p>-</p><p>The morning moves smoothly enough. Pat’s cheeks are starting to hurt a little from smiling so much, but they’d yet to run into any major problems, and lunchtime was quickly approaching.</p><p>There’s a slight lull in residents checking in, so he takes the time to stretch a little and pull out his phone, only to see a message from Bri that she had sent mere seconds ago.</p><p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span> </strong>HOTTIE INCOMING</p><p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span> </strong>I REPEAT, HOTTIE INCOMING</p><p>He looks down at his phone in bewilderment before snapping his head up at the sound of the door opening, just in time to see what was probably the most beautiful person that he’d ever laid eyes on.</p><p>He’s tall, with frustratingly perfect golden curls and flawless skin. There’s an easy smile on his face, like nothing in the world could really bother him, but his green eyes are sharp and observant as he walks into the lobby.</p><p>“Hey,” he says, still wearing that easy smile, though up close it seems more calculated than genuine. Pat could relate to that, at least, having worn a fake smile for most of the day—though there wasn’t much else about this boy he could relate to.</p><p>“Um, hi!” <em>Real smooth there, Pat, </em>he thinks to himself. “Welcome to Achaean Hall. I’m Pat.”</p><p>“Pat? Is that short for something?”</p><p>He swallows hard. It isn’t that he <em>dislikes </em>his name, per se, but more so that most people had a way of butchering it (sometimes intentionally, in the case of Agamemnon) despite Pat’s repeated correction. “Uh, yeah. Patroclus. It’s—it’s short for Patroclus.”</p><p>“Pa-tro-clus,” he repeats carefully, his stupidly perfect mouth forming around each syllable like it was the most important word he’d ever said. “I like it. Good to meet you, Patroclus.”</p><p>Pat feels like he might melt right then and there. “Thanks. It’s, uh, nice to meet you to, um…?”</p><p>“Achilles.”</p><p>“Achilles,” he echoes, though not as beautifully as Achilles had with his name. “Oh, uh, what’s the last name?”</p><p>“Pelides.”</p><p>Pat rifles through the stack of cards before procuring the card that said ‘Achilles Pelides’ in careful script that he immediately recognizes as his own. “Oh! Looks like you’re on my floor,” he says, internally cursing whatever powers that be for putting him in this situation. If he could barely form coherent sentences in front of Achilles, he can’t imagine what living on the same floor for an entire year would be like. “I guess we’ll be seeing more of each other, then.”</p><p>The blinding grin that graces Achilles’ face at that was almost enough to make him pause in his internal fist-shaking at God. Almost.</p><p>A figure behind him steps forward then, placing a gentle but worn hand on Achilles’ shoulder. Pat hadn’t even noticed him before—it seemed Achilles had a way of being so bright and bigger-than-life already that he took up the whole room. <em>Jesus, get a grip, </em>Pat quickly thought. <em>You don’t even know him.</em> “Well, don’t go too easy on Ace here, Pat,” the man (who Pat assumed was Achilles’ father) chuckles, now raising his hand to ruffle his son’s hair. “The kid’s pretty good at charming his way out of trouble. Though I might be partially to blame for that.”</p><p>Achilles merely smiles wider and ducks under his father’s hand. A pang goes through Pat’s stomach as he watches the fond interaction between father and son; his own dad had barely sent a nod his way when Pat had left for his second year. In that moment, he can’t decide whether he loved or hated Achilles and his seemingly <em>perfect </em>life.</p><p>Pat shakes his head lightly, both to ward off intrusive thoughts about his abysmal family life and to acknowledge the man’s statement. “Of course not. Well, this is—here’s your key. And if you could, um, fill out this card. It’s emergency contact information.” He hands over the card and key before finishing lamely, “In case anything, y’know, happens.”</p><p>Achilles nods and stoops down to fill out the card. His hair hangs down in a way that Pat could only describe as unfairly perfect (like everything about him, it seemed), until he stands up again and passes the card back.</p><p>“Perfect. Let me know if you need anything. I mean, I’ll be, you know, down here and everything. But later. When I’m—I’m done.” Yeah, Pat definitely hates him, if only for the fact that this near stranger could reduce him to mush with a smile and a carefully spoken <em>Pa-tro-clus. </em></p><p>Achilles nods again in understanding before shouldering his stuff and moving toward the elevator with his father. As the elevator dings, he turns back to look at Pat, offering him a small smile that makes his insides feel a bit funny.</p><p>Pat is broken from his reverie by his phone lighting up on the table. He glances up, making sure no one else was coming in, and then quickly unlocks it to see another text from Briseis.</p><p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span> </strong>so???</p><p>            <strong>pat: </strong>i hate him</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>listen i know having his last name be pelides makes it weird for peleus but i'll just never use peleus' first name in this fic ok</p><p>hope you enjoyed! let me know in the comments what you thought!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Oh, Of Course He Plays Guitar</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Of course he’s good, because the universe is just like that: it makes perfect people with perfect golden curls and perfect guitar playing skills.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>weeelll i was gonna wait until sunday to post this next chapter buuut i got impatient so enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The rest of the day is much more uneventful than Achilles’ arrival. Agamemnon’s brother hadn’t arrived that day, as well as most of his floor. There are still two more days of move-in, though, plenty of time for the rest of his residents to move in.</p>
<p>Walking into his room, Pat almost shuts the door behind him but stops as he realizes that he would probably be expected to have his door open now that there were residents there. It doesn’t bother him too much, at least not yet, but he assumes as the year wore on, he would grow tired of having to be available so often.</p>
<p>In truth, being an RA was sort of a last resort, after the debacle of last year which ended in his father cutting him off financially, all because Pat hadn’t wanted to pursue what his father had wanted him to. (It also didn’t help that Pat had come out as gay a few months prior. That…didn’t go over well, to say the least.) It wasn’t that his dad paid for his entire schooling—on the contrary, most of his schooling was covered by financial aid and student loans, but the money his father had put forward had gone toward his housing. With that gone, Pat suddenly had no way to secure where he was living—until Briseis mentioned he could apply to be an RA with her and get his housing (and dining) paid for.</p>
<p>Pat knows he’s good at conflict management, but he’s rather…introverted, and just thinking about being emotionally available to 20+ freshmen all the time makes him a little exhausted. Nonetheless, he props his door open and sits down at his desk (which was positioned so he could see out into the hallway) to go over the syllabi for this semester’s classes.</p>
<p>He doesn’t get very far before there’s a quick knock at his door. “Patroclus?” It takes him a half-second to respond, purely because he a) isn’t used to people saying his full name, and b) isn’t used to people saying it <em>correctly. </em>When Pat finally does glance up, it’s to see Achilles Pelides leaning against his doorframe. <em>Like he owns the place, </em>he adds silently.</p>
<p>“Oh, uh, hey! What’s up?”</p>
<p>“I was wondering if you could help me with something.”</p>
<p>“Sure, yeah, of course.”</p>
<p>Pat quickly stands up (and, in the process, almost knocks his laptop to the ground, which he decided to pointedly ignore as Achilles amusedly exhales) and follows him to the boy’s dorm.</p>
<p>(He really needs to stop calling him a boy, he thinks briefly as they trek down the hallway. Achilles is most likely only a year younger than him, and by his height and lean frame, probably looks older than Pat does.)</p>
<p>“So, what did you need help with?”</p>
<p>For a moment, Achilles appears a little unsure of himself, which seems incredibly unnatural in the short time that Pat has known him. “Oh, right. Uh…I was trying to put this poster up, but it keeps falling every time I try to stick a corner on.”</p>
<p>“So…you needed my help to put a poster up.”</p>
<p>“Uh-huh.”</p>
<p>“How did you get that other poster up, then?” Pat questions, pointing to the other poster that looks to be stuck on the wall just fine.</p>
<p>Achilles rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, but almost looks delighted that he was called on the ruse, like he honestly hadn’t expected it to happen. “I guess I’m just having trouble with this one.”</p>
<p>Pat sighs and steps over to hold the poster against the wall. Achilles visibly relaxes and smiles, much more genuinely than he had been when he walked into the building for the first time, before grabbing his command strips to stick the poster up.</p>
<p>He takes this time to look around Achilles’ room. It’s still a bit of a mess, with various items strewn about and suitcases open. His bed is made (somewhat), with simple white sheets and a blue comforter. Next to his bed is a guitar, which instantly piques Pat’s curiosity.</p>
<p>“Do you play?” He blurts aloud.</p>
<p>“Huh?”</p>
<p>“The guitar. Do you—do you play?” Achilles cocks his head at this, and he realizes how <em>stupid </em>of a question it was. “Never mind. That was dumb, of course you play, why else would you—I’m going to stop talking now.”</p>
<p>Achilles is laughing, then, but there’s nothing malicious about the way his shoulders shake and his eyes light up. It’s like he’s fascinated with the way Pat manages to stumble all over his words, and he can’t for the life of him figure out why; he imagines that most people, in Achilles’ presence, become this much of a mess.</p>
<p>(At least, he hopes they do.)</p>
<p>“I do play, yeah.”</p>
<p>“Are you—are you good?” This might be an even dumber question. Of course he’s good, because the universe is just like that: it makes perfect people with perfect golden curls and perfect guitar playing skills.</p>
<p>Achilles seems confused, though, and pauses a moment as if he’s considering the question carefully. “I guess. It’s just something I do for fun.” The look on his face makes Pat realize that it’s quite possible no one has ever questioned his skill in anything, and he’s not sure if he hates Achilles more for that or likes the fact that he actually paused to think about his answer anyway.</p>
<p>“Oh. Cool,” is all he says in return.</p>
<p>They fall into silence again as he finishes putting up the poster. Pat’s glad when he’s finished, because his arms were already starting to get a little bit tired, but obviously he would never tell Achilles that—judging by his lean muscles (not that he’s looked enough to notice them, not at all), there’s no way he’d even understand the way Pat’s arms ache from such little exertion.</p>
<p>They stand there in an awkward silence, looking around but not quite looking at each other.</p>
<p>“Well, I—”</p>
<p>“So—”</p>
<p>They finally meet the other’s eyes, then, and Pat can’t help but smile a little. “You go first.”</p>
<p>Achilles doesn’t even bother doing the awkward, ‘No, you,’ and once again Pat can’t decide whether he likes him or hates him for that. It’s straight to the point, at least, but with most people it would come off a little bit arrogant. “I was just gonna ask—what’s your major?”</p>
<p>Pat shifts, his body a bit tenser than a moment ago. His academic plans have been a bit of a touchy subject for him ever since what happened with his father. “I’m, ah, undeclared right now. I was business, but…”</p>
<p>“Wasn’t really your thing?”</p>
<p>He snorts at that. “Yeah, you could say that. I’ve got time to figure it out, anyway, since I’m only a sophomore. So.” He pauses for a moment before realizing he should probably return the question. “What about you?”</p>
<p>The other boy seems to tense in the same way. “Sports management. I wanted to do music, but my dad says that since I’m here on an athletic scholarship, I should stick with something similar.”</p>
<p>Of <em>course </em>he’s here on athletic scholarship, why wouldn’t he be? “You could still minor in music, if you really wanted. Or even just take a class or two.”</p>
<p>“Maybe,” Achilles shrugs. “My dad wouldn’t care, I guess, but my mom would probably throw a fit. She thinks it’s pointless that I’m even here.” At Pat’s furrowed brows, he continues, “She wants me to go to the Olympics. You don’t really need a college education for that.”</p>
<p>“Oh. Well, shit,” is all he can think to say in response.</p>
<p>“Yeah.” Achilles toes the floor a little. “I will, someday. I just wanted a little more time to be normal.”</p>
<p>The first thought that Pat has is <em>wow, he just knows he’ll be in the Olympics, </em>and the second is <em>I doubt anyone has ever looked at Achilles and thought he was normal. </em>That is quickly followed by a third thought: <em>Pat, pull yourself together. You’ve known him for a day, now is not the time to spin poetry about the kid.</em></p>
<p>Instead of saying any of those things, he simply responds, “That makes sense.” He’s met with wide green eyes that make his stomach twist up.</p>
<p>“It does?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, why wouldn’t it?”</p>
<p>The younger boy shrugs again. “Everyone says that there’s no point delaying the inevitable, that I should just go for it now. While I’m still good.”</p>
<p>“Oh.”</p>
<p>“Yeah.”</p>
<p>“Well, if it’s any consolation, I get what you mean. I think I’d do the same.” Achilles merely responds with a soft smile. “What, uh, what sport do you play?”</p>
<p>“I run track. I mean, I’ve played a lot of sports, but I like running the most.”</p>
<p>“Why?”</p>
<p>He once again takes a moment to consider the question carefully. It’s honestly endearing, the way that Achilles genuinely evaluates each question Pat asks, and it softens the little bit of hatred he has. “I’m fast.”</p>
<p>“Well no shit, you’re fast, otherwise you wouldn’t already know that you’re going to be in the Olympics one day.”</p>
<p>Peals of laughter bounce off the walls at that, and the last ounce of hatred leaves Pat’s body as fast as he assumes Achilles can run. They stand there for a moment, looking at each other with little smiles, before Pat clears his throat. “I should probably head back to my room, if you don’t need anything else.”</p>
<p>“Right.” Achilles looks so crestfallen that Pat almost wishes he hadn’t said anything.</p>
<p>“Let me know if your wall gives you any more trouble. With, uh, the posters.”</p>
<p>The smile returns to Achilles’ face as quickly as it had left. “Will do.”</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>It seems that Achilles has no further troubles decorating his room (and Pat’s not upset about that, he’s <em>not</em>), and the next two days of check-in go smoothly. Pat finally meets Menelaus, and while he can definitely see the resemblance, Agamemnon’s brother doesn’t seem to be as much of an asshole. Yet.</p>
<p>The night of the last day of check-in, Pat puts together their floor group chat and sends a quick message.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>fourth floor achaean hall</strong>
</p>
<p><strong>pat: </strong>hey everyone! in case we haven’t met yet, i’m pat, your ra! we’ll be having a floor meeting tomorrow night at 7 in the common room</p>
<p><strong>pat: </strong>there will be snacks</p>
<p>
  <em>ace liked ‘there will be snacks’</em>
</p>
<p><strong>pat: </strong>in the meantime, feel free to shoot me a message or stop by my room if you have any questions—my door is usually open!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Satisfied with his messages, Pat sets his phone down and returns to his laptop. He has the syllabus for biology open in one tab, but currently he’s playing solitaire to avoid looking at the mountain of work the class requires.</p>
<p>His phone lights up, and at first he assumes it’s a question from a resident—until he sees the name.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span> </strong>so how is hottie mchottie</p>
<p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span> </strong>do u still hate him</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Pat sighs and shakes his head with a small smile before replying.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>            <strong>pat: </strong>wow what a clever codename</p>
<p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span> </strong>thanks it’s my specialty</p>
<p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span> </strong>now answer the question</p>
<p>            <strong>pat: </strong>not really i guess</p>
<p>            <strong>pat: </strong>it’s still a little frustrating how perfect the guy is</p>
<p>            <strong>pat: </strong>but no i don’t hate him</p>
<p>            <strong>pat: </strong>but he runs track and is here on scholarship and also plays the guitar</p>
<p>            <strong>pat: </strong>i mean come on</p>
<p>            <strong>pat: </strong>leave some talent for the rest of us</p>
<p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span> </strong>he runs track?</p>
<p>            <strong>pat: </strong>yeah that’s what i just said. reading comprehension is off the charts today bri</p>
<p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span> </strong>you know what that means</p>
<p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span> </strong>not only is he probably fit as hell</p>
<p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span> </strong>but he’s also got great stamina</p>
<p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span> </strong>( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)</p>
<p>            <strong>pat: </strong>i hate that you have that face on standby</p>
<p>            <strong>pat: </strong>also hOLD ON</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He’s about to tell Briseis how incredibly inappropriate it is to talk about how much sexual stamina one of his residents might have when there’s a quick knock against his door that he knows has to be Achilles.</p>
<p>Pat’s head snaps up, his cheeks already flushed red at how poor of timing it is for Achilles to turn up just as Briseis is texting him about how good at sex he probably is. He clears his throat awkwardly. “Oh, um. Achilles! What’s up?”</p>
<p>“You said that your door is usually open.”</p>
<p>“I did say that, yes.”</p>
<p>Achilles just stands there in his doorway, backlit by the fluorescent lights of the hallway. Once again, it’s just <em>unfair, </em>Pat thinks, because no one should look that good from fluorescent lighting. They watch each other for a moment, neither of them willing to break the silence or look away—</p>
<p>Until Pat clears his throat again. “So, uh, do you have a question, or…?”</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>“Oh. Okay. Do you want to…come in and sit or something?”</p>
<p>Achilles looks around at his room before nodding and stepping in. He flops down onto Pat’s futon (which isn’t really that comfortable, but Achilles somehow makes it look like it is). A bit of his old hatred flares up at how flippant the boy is about entering someone else’s space, but it quickly dies down when Achilles says, “I like your room. The plants are really nice.”</p>
<p>“Thanks. I, uh, went a little crazy.” A little crazy was a bit of an understatement. Him and Briseis had gone on a shopping trip when all of the RAs had moved in, and Pat was still upset at his father’s horrid send-off, so…plants. They covered almost every available surface, minus the small tree next to Pat’s bed. He definitely, <em>totally </em>hadn’t named all of them, either.</p>
<p>“They’re very you.”</p>
<p>Patroclus has no idea how to respond to this. “Um…thanks, I think?”</p>
<p>Achilles merely nods once, resuming his examination of Pat’s dorm. His leg won’t stop bouncing as he does so. Pat assumes this has something to do with being a runner (because there’s no way it could be the result of nerves, not with Achilles). “Your nameplate only says Pat.”</p>
<p>“My…oh, yeah. That.” All the RAs were tasked with making little pictures with their residents’ names for all of the doors, including their own, and Pat had chosen to stick with the shortened version of his name for his. “It’s just easier. Kind of hard to mispronounce Pat.”</p>
<p>“But your name is Patroclus.”</p>
<p>“Uh-huh.” He still can’t get over how <em>well </em>Achilles says his name, like he’s said it for years instead of just having learned it two days ago.</p>
<p>“Do you not like your name?”</p>
<p>“It’s not that, it’s just easier than having to correct people all the time.”</p>
<p>“But do you not like your name?” Achilles repeats. For once, his leg stops bouncing, as if this conversation deserved all of his focus.</p>
<p>Pat has no idea why this topic is so important to him. “I don’t know, I guess I’ve never thought about it.” Achilles gives him a pointed look of disbelief. <em>I like it when you say it, </em>is the first thought that pops into his head, but Patroclus immediately squashes it down. Instead, he opts for, “Yeah, I like my name.”</p>
<p>That easy smile graces his face again as Achilles responds, “Good. I like your name too, Patroclus.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Pa-tro-clus.</em>
</p>
<p>This kid was going to be the death of him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>god they're so awkward. i love it</p>
<p>let me know what you think!! and thank you to everyone who commented on the first chapter, i really appreciated all of the kind words!! :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Fruit Is Fine (Because It's Vegan)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Patroclus thinks that this might be a pretty perfect moment: his first successful meeting as an RA completed, the sweetness of the grape in his mouth, and Achilles grinning at him like he had just done something incredible.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>sorry this is a bit late (although it is still technically sunday for me), had a late shift at work today! this chapter is a bit short, but don't worry bc i think i'm going to keep updating on wednesdays in addition to sundays!</p>
<p>hope you enjoy this chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Patroclus is late to his own meeting.</p>
<p>Okay, technically he <em>was </em>there on time—he’d gotten to the common room at 6:45 to set up their building’s ID card-swipe machine (a fancy way of telling who came and who didn’t) and all of their snacks. By the time he finished he was hit with the intense need to <em>shit</em>, so he crossed his fingers and prayed to whatever gods there were that this would be quick.</p>
<p>The gods are rarely kind.</p>
<p>Pat hurries back into the common room at 7:02. The entire floor seems to be there, all chatting amongst themselves and munching happily on the snacks he had provided. It was mainly junk food, but he made an effort to bring some fruit after one of his residents had pointed out their dietary restrictions.</p>
<p>            (<strong><span class="u">deidameia:</span> </strong>will there be vegan snacks at the meeting? because i’m vegan.</p>
<p><strong>             pat: </strong>oh for sure! thanks for letting me know. is there anything you would prefer?      </p>
<p><strong>             <span class="u">deidameia:</span> </strong>fruit is fine. because it’s vegan.)</p>
<p>Achilles is sitting in the center of the throng, holding a bunch of grapes in his hand and eating them slowly. He smiles lazily at the conversations around him and occasionally chimes in with a joke or comment of his own, which always earn bouts of raucous laughter.</p>
<p><em>He literally looks like a Greek god. This is so unfair, </em>Pat thinks immediately.</p>
<p>As he watches Achilles’ lips form around the grape he pops into his mouth, he then thinks, <em>I’m too gay for this. I just am. </em></p>
<p>Pat quickly shakes the thoughts from his head and goes to open his laptop to pull up the notes for this meeting. It’s all basic info, really, but he doesn’t want to accidentally miss anything and get ripped into later by Agamemnon.</p>
<p>“Hey everyone,” he says before realizing that there’s no way anyone can hear him—except Achilles, who nudges the people around him and gestures up to the front of the room. People slowly fall silent, and Pat gives him a small smile in thanks. “Hey,” he repeats, “I’m Pat, as you probably guessed. If you guys haven’t already, please swipe your university ID up here. It’s just for attendance purposes.”</p>
<p>About half the room stands up and files to the machine. He waits a few minutes as they all take their seats again. “So, just a few logistic things…”</p>
<p>He goes over the rules (no alcohol, no smoking, no open flames, among other things) and the floor’s quiet hours (12-8 during the week, 1-9 on the weekends). “Basically, just don’t do anything stupid, please. I’d like to get through the year without having to report anyone for smoking weed and setting off the fire alarms. So if you smoke, please do it somewhere else, if only for my own sanity.” This earns a few small chuckles, and Patroclus feels a flush of pride at that. He’s not used to being the center of attention, and he’s definitely not used to making a room of people laugh. “Are there any questions?”</p>
<p>The room is silent for a few moments. “Awesome. We’re supposed to do ice breakers, but I figure no one really wants to do that.” There are more than a few relieved looks at that. “Well, I’ll stick around in here just in case there are questions. Feel free to take some food with you.”</p>
<p>His residents shuffle out, a few people taking armfuls of snacks with them. He’s glad for that because he really didn’t want to carry any of it out. Some stop by his table at the front to introduce themselves, and Pat does his best to remember their names as they each come by.</p>
<p>Finally, the room is empty, save for himself and Achilles, who is still thoughtfully munching on his grapes. “Do you have a question?”</p>
<p>“Yeah. Do you want a grape?”</p>
<p>“Huh?”</p>
<p>Achilles stands up and plops down in the seat across from Patroclus. “You didn’t get any of the snacks you put out. Do you want a grape, Patroclus?”</p>
<p>Pat decides not to bring up the two snack-size bags of Doritos currently sitting in the trash (which probably hadn’t helped his sudden need to shit before the meeting). “Uh, sure, I’ll take a grape.” He holds out his hand expectantly, but Achilles ignores it.</p>
<p>“Catch,” he says and lobs a grape at Pat’s face. It hits him square in the nose and falls to the floor.</p>
<p>They both burst out into laughter, and whatever awkwardness was left from before (mainly on Pat’s end) dissolves. “You just wasted that grape,” Patroclus points out. Achilles swipes the grape from the ground and quickly pops it into his mouth. “That’s disgusting.”</p>
<p>“Five second rule,” he says over the grape in his mouth.</p>
<p>“That’s not a real thing, so still gross. Also don’t talk with food in your mouth, it’s nasty. I don’t want to see you masticate.”</p>
<p>“Okay, mom. Also, masticate? You’re kind of a nerd.”</p>
<p>“Tell me something I don’t know.”</p>
<p>Achilles has nothing to say in response to that and merely repeats, “Catch.” This time, Pat is ready and manages to catch the grape in his mouth. It bursts as he bites down, washing his tongue in sweetness. Patroclus thinks that this might be a pretty perfect moment: his first successful meeting as an RA completed, the sweetness of the grape in his mouth, and Achilles grinning at him like he had just done something incredible.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>“So, basically, he tossed a grape into your mouth and now you’re in love with him.”</p>
<p>Pat rolls his eyes and turns the page in the book he’s only sort of reading. Briseis is sprawled on his bed, feet kicking up and down onto his pillows. “I’m not <em>in love </em>with him. And get your feet off my pillows.”</p>
<p>“Why? They’re probably cleaner than your face,” she shoots back, but thankfully moves them away.</p>
<p>“I haven’t gotten a zit since the beginning of last semester, thank you very much.”</p>
<p>“Aw, look at you, finally growing out of acne.”</p>
<p>Patroclus merely flips her off and tries to return to his book. It’s the day before classes start, and he’s trying to distract himself from the mounting nerves that come with a new semester of work. He knows that once he gets into it, he’ll be fine, but for now he can’t shake the anxiety.</p>
<p>“Anyway, back to the <em>really </em>important stuff,” Briseis continues, not even bothering to look up from her phone. “What made you go from hating him to wanting to carry his babies?”</p>
<p>He snaps the book shut, already knowing he won’t get much farther with Bri here. “I don’t even know where to begin with how wrong that is. And I don’t know, at first I was just kind of…jealous, I guess, because the guy is so perfect it’s almost a crime, but it turns out he’s not a jerk. Like, at all. He <em>listens, </em>Bri, when a guy like him would probably never listen to someone like me.”</p>
<p>“So you do want to carry his babies, then.”</p>
<p>He launches his book at her, then, just barely clipping her shoulder and ricocheting to the space between his bed and the wall. “You’re insufferable.”</p>
<p>“And yet you love me for it.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He’s about to ask her to toss the book back when there’s a knock on his door. It’s closed, since Briseis is here, but he still calls out, “It’s open!” Then, to Bri, he mutters, “Be nice.”</p>
<p>She scoffs. “I’m always nice.”</p>
<p>The door swings open to reveal none other than Achilles. They’d been hanging out on and off over the past few days, talking but not of anything really important; he learns that Achilles’ favorite color is blue (which is pretty basic, but Patroclus doesn’t say so), he likes figs, and he’s been playing the guitar since he could hold one.</p>
<p>(“What’s your favorite color, then?”</p>
<p>“Green.”</p>
<p>“Oh. That makes sense. Because of all the, y’know, plants.” Achilles gestures around the room at that.</p>
<p>“Huh. I guess so. Never really thought about that, to be honest.” Pat thinks he might actually be the dumbest person alive, but Achilles only grins at him, clearly not sharing that sentiment.)</p>
<p>“Are you busy right now?”</p>
<p>“Not really, just hanging out. Briseis, this is Achilles, one of my residents. Achilles, Briseis.” Achilles steps fully into the room and peers curiously at Bri. She waves before giving Patroclus a suggestive glance that is not at all discreet.</p>
<p>For once in the short time he’s known the other boy, Achilles looks completely unsure of himself as he stands awkwardly in the center of the room and shoves his hands into his pockets of his sweatpants. “Am I—am I interrupting something?”</p>
<p>“Er, no? Briseis and I were just hanging out, trying to take advantage of our free time before classes start. Did—did you, um, need something?” This is really <em>not </em>what he needs, stumbling over his words like this in front of Briseis. The gleeful look on her face tells Pat that he’ll be hearing all about it later.</p>
<p>“You know, I just remembered,” she interrupts, quickly sliding off of Pat’s bed, “that I gotta go take care of something on my floor. I’ll text you later, Pat.” She sends him another look, as if to say, <em>if you don’t jump his bones while I’m gone, I’ll be incredibly disappointed. </em>“It was nice to meet you, Achilles!”</p>
<p>“You too.”</p>
<p>Briseis leaves then, shutting the door behind her and leaving the room in a tense silence that hasn’t happened to the two since the first day they met. “Sorry, she’s a little—you know what, it’s not important. What’s up?”</p>
<p>“Is she your girlfriend?” Achilles blurts.</p>
<p>“What? No. No, not at all. I’m not, um, really into that.”</p>
<p>“Into Briseis?”</p>
<p>“Into girls.”</p>
<p>“Oh.”</p>
<p>“Yeah.” Pat’s hands are slick with sweat. This was not really how he wanted to come out to Achilles—it’s not that he’s ashamed of it (at least now that he’s not living in his father’s house), and he hopes it’s not something that would bother the younger boy. Despite all of that, he always carries that fear with him; the fear that when he revealed that part of himself, a switch would be flipped and whoever he told would want nothing to do with him.</p>
<p>Achilles very visibly relaxes at the admission, though. “So you’re gay?”</p>
<p>“That’s what that would mean, yes.”</p>
<p>“That’s good.”</p>
<p>“Is it?”</p>
<p>“Yes. Definitely.” With that, Achilles turns and walks out of the room, the door shutting behind him, leaving Patroclus to think, <em>what the fuck was that.</em></p>
<p>-</p>
<p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span> </strong>so??? what happened after i left</p>
<p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span> </strong>did you kiss and make sweet sweet love</p>
<p>            <strong>pat: </strong>how are you so shameless</p>
<p>            <strong>pat: </strong>and no, we did not…do that</p>
<p>            <strong>pat: </strong>he now knows i’m gay though</p>
<p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span> </strong>oh shit</p>
<p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span> </strong>how did he respond</p>
<p>            <strong>pat: </strong>he just said that it was good and then left</p>
<p>            <strong>pat: </strong>not really sure how i’m supposed to interpret that</p>
<p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span> </strong>!!!!!!</p>
<p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span> </strong>i’m gonna need a play by play here</p>
<p>            <strong>pat: </strong>he asked if we were dating, i said no because I wasn’t into that</p>
<p>            <strong>pat: </strong>and then he was like “into briseis?” and i said “into girls”</p>
<p>            <strong>pat: </strong>he said “so you’re gay” and i’m like “yeah that’s pretty much what i just said”</p>
<p>            <strong>pat: </strong>then he said that was good, i asked if it was and he said “yes definitely” and then left</p>
<p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span> </strong>oh my god</p>
<p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span> </strong>i’m drafting my best woman speech as we speak</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>my favorite quote that i've written for this fic is "i'm too gay for this. i just am." bc Me Too pat</p>
<p>let me know what you think! all of the comments have been so so lovely, i'm so glad yall have enjoyed this fic so far! i know it's a little bit slow but it starts to pick up a bit in the next few chapters (chapters 5-7 are especially spicy)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Patroclus Learns Anatomy (Well, Bio, But Close Enough)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>His thoughts are quickly diverted by the sight of Achilles putting the spoonful of ice cream in his mouth, his eyes fluttering shut and a small sigh of pleasure sounding from his throat. Pat is acutely aware of the blood rushing to his dick and the almost painful constraint of his pants, and he wonders what he did in a past life to deserve this.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Patroclus is relieved when classes finally start; not only does it offer a reprieve from the anxiety he had been feeling before, but it offers a chance to tear his mind from Achilles.</p>
<p>He really shouldn’t be thinking about his resident as much as he has been, if Patroclus is being perfectly honest with himself. He’d just met the boy last week—sure, they’d already found a surprisingly comfortable rhythm with each other in such a short time, but it didn’t make Pat feel any better about just how much he thought of Achilles.</p>
<p><em>And now you’re doing it again, </em>he thinks. Pat shakes the thoughts from his head as he sits down in the lecture hall for his first class. He’s getting the last of his gen-eds knocked out this semester in an attempt to delay having to declare his major. After the business disaster of last year, he’s a little hesitant to decide too quickly what he wants to commit to.</p>
<p>The class is biology, taken to fulfill the science requirement, and he’s pointedly chosen a seat in the back middle of the hall. Living with his not-so-great father for all of his life, Pat isn’t exactly keen on getting to know his professors (or any authority figure, for that matter). He’s taking his laptop out of his bag when he hears an all-too-familiar laugh sound from the front row of the hall.</p>
<p>“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” he mutters under his breath, trying to ignore the small flip of his heart at the exuberant laugh he just heard.</p>
<p>Sure enough, Pat spots the gleam of blond hair that could belong to no one else but Achilles. He’s chatting with the professor, and there’s already a healthy number of students that have crowded into the front rows, like moths to a flame.</p>
<p><em>This is fine, </em>he tries to convince himself. <em>This lecture has over 200 people in it. He won’t even know I’m here. </em></p>
<p>“Patroclus!”</p>
<p>
  <em>If there’s a god, they’ve forsaken me. </em>
</p>
<p>His head snaps up from his laptop screen to see Achilles bounding over, backpack open and slung over his shoulder. Pat watches as he awkwardly steps over the other people in the row before plopping down in the seat next to him. “So. Bio, huh?”</p>
<p>Pat can’t help but return the blinding grin that Achilles is currently wearing. “Congrats, you know what class you’re in. So proud of my resident.”</p>
<p>As Achilles sets up his own laptop with a pleased smile, Pat whips out his phone.</p>
<p>            <strong>pat: </strong>bri, you’re not gonna fucking believe this</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Thankfully (or not thankfully), biology is the only class Pat and Achilles share together. Every day that week, he has to take a cursory glance around all of his classes to make sure that the universe hadn’t designed this semester specifically to torture him.</p>
<p>“You’re so melodramatic,” Briseis snickers. They’re in the dining hall, and Pat watches as she piles on a suspect collection of vegetables onto her plate. He glances down at his own, which currently only has a slice of pizza on it, before reaching for the ladle and grabbing some of the veggies as well. “You share one class together. That’s hardly the universe conspiring against you.”</p>
<p>He gives her an exasperated look as they maneuver toward the soda fountains. “For once, I wish you were the one with these kinds of problems, just so it would be my turn to make fun of you.”</p>
<p>“Sorry, I’m just too pretty to have problems like that.”</p>
<p>“Rude.”</p>
<p>“But true.”</p>
<p>They find a booth tucked in the corner and slide into the seats as Pat says, “God, I’m so wrapped up in my own teen drama that I haven’t even asked about your floor. Has everything gone okay?”</p>
<p>Briseis waves her fork in forgiveness. “Honestly, really boring compared to the little soap opera you’ve got going on. Agamemnon won’t stop dropping by, though.” She makes a disgusted face, though Pat can’t tell if it’s because of Agamemnon or the bite of vegetables she’d just taken. “His brother is on your floor, right?”</p>
<p>Pat nods. “Menelaus. Honestly a really nice kid. I think him and Achilles are friends.” Well, <em>kind </em>of friends. Achilles didn’t seem to be interested in most of the students around him, only granting them basic politeness…except for Patroclus.</p>
<p>(He won’t be telling Briseis that, obviously.)</p>
<p>“That’s surprising, given that his brother is the spawn of Satan. I think he tried asking me out the other day.”</p>
<p>Pat gags. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry. I wonder if we could report him for that.”</p>
<p>“Are you kidding? His family would sue us until we were homeless. I’ll be alright, honestly.”</p>
<p>“If you say so.”</p>
<p>They fall into a comfortable silence as they continue eating their food. Pat tries very hard not to think about Agamemnon and Briseis together, since the thought alone is enough to make the food in his mouth taste like cardboard. He wouldn’t wish that guy on his worst enemy.</p>
<p>“Hey, Briseis?”</p>
<p>“Yeah?”</p>
<p>“I am a little worried about Achilles.”</p>
<p>She sends him a concerned look, setting her silverware down to focus on him. “What do you mean? Did he do something? Because I’ll fight him.”</p>
<p>Pat laughs. “Thanks, Bri. It’s not like that, it’s just…well, you know how it took you and I a few months to become close friends?”</p>
<p>“That was more your fault than mine, since you’re kind of an awkward little shit, but continue.”</p>
<p>“I’m worried at how quickly we—I mean, me and Achilles—are, you know. Getting so close.” He sets his arms on the table and buries his face in the crook of his elbow. “That sounded so stupid when I said it out loud.”</p>
<p>Briseis rubs his arm comfortingly. “It’s not stupid, Pat. You’re just afraid of fucking it up so soon. I mean, it makes sense. The biggest relationship you’ve had in your life was with your father, and we saw how well that turned out.”</p>
<p>“Thanks for reminding me,” he deadpans, voice muffled by his arms.</p>
<p>“I’m just saying! You don’t have the best foundation for human relationships, so it takes you a little longer to feel comfortable. If it’s really worrying you, just tell him. He doesn’t seem like that big of a douche to get mad at you for it.”</p>
<p>He feels a little better at that. It wasn’t exactly that he <em>minded </em>already being so close with Achilles (at least, closer than he would be with anyone else he had just met two weeks ago), but sometimes Pat was a little alarmed at just how much he thought about the golden-haired boy.</p>
<p>“Have I ever told you that you’re the best?”</p>
<p>“Several times, but I think you could tell me some more?”</p>
<p>“Well then, you’re the best. The narcissism doesn’t suit you though.”</p>
<p>Bri flings a soggy piece of broccoli at him, to which Patroclus responds by tossing a pepperoni, which lands with a satisfying <em>smack</em> on her cheek. They both burst out laughing, even as Briseis starts cursing him for how her face would probably break out from the grease.</p>
<p>They’re about to get up take their dishes back when Bri gets a suspiciously gleeful look on her face. “Hey, don’t turn around.”</p>
<p>Pat shoots her a confused look before immediately turning around and locking eyes with Achilles. He promptly whips his head back around to see Briseis shaking with laughter. “Why. Why would you do this to me.”</p>
<p>“I—you’re just too easy to tease, oh my God—” She manages to get out between laughs. “He’s coming over! This is too perfect. Hold on, let me get out my phone to—”</p>
<p>“Do <em>not </em>record this, I swear to—”</p>
<p>“Patroclus!”</p>
<p>He sends a dirty look to Briseis before turning to Achilles, an easy smile already falling onto his lips at the sight of his resident. “Hey, Achilles. What’s up?”</p>
<p>“Oh, you know, just eating.”</p>
<p>“Right. It is a dining hall.”</p>
<p>“Yeah.”</p>
<p>Briseis is glancing between them, looking positively ecstatic at how awkward the exchange is. Achilles shifts his gaze to her before looking back at Pat. “Have you already finished eating?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, we were just about to—”</p>
<p>She cuts him off before he can finish. “Pat was actually just about to go up and get some ice cream! I have to run, though, and he was just groaning about having to sit here alone.”</p>
<p>“Oh, I can sit with you, then. Wouldn’t want to leave you here all alone.” Both of them are looking at Patroclus with teasing grins, and Pat has never wanted to sink into the ground more than he does now.</p>
<p>“I don’t want to keep you from your friends, though. So it’s okay, really.” Achilles is already walking back to his table and grabbing his plate before Pat has the chance to say anymore. He turns back to Briseis, who is wearing a frustratingly smug look on her face. “I hate you.”</p>
<p>“You love me. I better get going, use protection, bye!”</p>
<p>She races off before Pat can respond, and soon enough Achilles is back, sliding his plate onto the table but not sitting down. They stare at each other for a moment before he says, “So. Ice cream?”</p>
<p>“Right. Before we go, you have to promise not to judge me for this.”</p>
<p>Achilles just looks at him, confused, and Pat waves him off as he slides out of the booth and stands up. “You’ll see.”</p>
<p>At the ice cream station, Pat is acutely aware of him watching as his bowl fills up with scoops of chocolate ice cream, followed by chocolate syrup, a heap of sprinkles, whip cream, and three cherries. By the time he’s done, Achilles is looking at the bowl with wide eyes.</p>
<p>“I kind of have a major sweet tooth.”</p>
<p>“No kidding. I think my parents would have an aneurysm if I had that much sugar.”</p>
<p>Pat looks around. “Hm, I don’t see your parents in this college dining hall. Just saying.”</p>
<p>Achilles looks longingly at the bowl before shaking his head. “Nah, I shouldn’t.”</p>
<p>“Suit yourself.”</p>
<p>Back at their table, Pat digs in with fervor. He wonders if he should feel embarrassed to be stuffing his face with ice cream in front of someone who looks like they were sculpted by the gods themselves, but come on. It’s ice cream.</p>
<p>“So,” he says between bites, “how has your first week of college been going?”</p>
<p>Achilles shrugs. “It’s been alright. I took your advice, though.”</p>
<p>“Oh?”</p>
<p>“I added a music class. Just for fun. It’s piano, not guitar, but I took lessons as a kid so it’s not too bad.” <em>Jesus, is there anything he’s not good at?</em></p>
<p>“I’m glad! You know, there’s a piano in the first floor lounge, if you ever need to practice.”</p>
<p>“Only if you’re there.”</p>
<p>Pat flushes but nods. “I’d like that. I still haven’t heard you play your guitar, either.”</p>
<p>“Then I’ll have to do that, too.” Achilles is smiling at him, and Pat notices a little dimple on the right side of his face that makes his heart start doing gymnastics in his chest. “It’s a date. Hey, are you going to finish your ice cream?”</p>
<p>His brain is still short-circuiting at the first sentence, so all he can respond with is, “I—uh—do you want some? I can get you another spoon—” But Achilles just reaches over and grabs Pat’s spoon from the bowl, scooping a sizable bite as Pat flounders in interpreting what he meant by ‘date’. His thoughts are quickly diverted by the sight of Achilles putting the spoonful of ice cream in his mouth, his eyes fluttering shut and a small sigh of pleasure sounding from his throat. Pat is acutely aware of the blood rushing to his dick and the almost painful constraint of his pants, and he wonders what he did in a past life to deserve this.</p>
<p>“Oh my God, this is so good.”</p>
<p>“Yup,” he chokes out in response. “It’s great.”</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>            <strong>pat: </strong>you’re actually the devil</p>
<p>            <strong>pat: </strong>literally the antichrist</p>
<p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span> </strong>*eyes emoji*</p>
<p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span> </strong>what happened</p>
<p><strong>            pat: </strong>i got a fucking boner after he took a bite of my ice cream and let out a pornographic moan</p>
<p><strong>            <span class="u">bri:</span> </strong>ALSDKJFLJS</p>
<p><strong>            pat: </strong>this is your fault</p>
<p><strong>            <span class="u">bri:</span> </strong>what, that you’re gay?</p>
<p><strong>            pat: </strong>fuck you</p>
<p><strong>            <span class="u">bri:</span> </strong>can’t because you’re gay</p>
<p><strong>            pat: </strong>are you still my friend just to torture me or something</p>
<p><strong>            pat: </strong>because i’m getting big sadist vibes from you right now</p>
<p><strong>            <span class="u">bri:</span> </strong>:)</p>
<p><strong>            pat: </strong>…also i think he might have accidentally asked me on a date</p>
<p><strong>            <span class="u">bri:</span> </strong>FUCKING PARDON???????</p>
<p><strong>            pat: </strong>he asked if he could play piano for me, i said yes</p>
<p><strong>            pat: </strong>and he said ‘it’s a date’</p>
<p><strong>            <span class="u">bri:</span> </strong>HGJFJKEOKDF</p>
<p><strong>            <span class="u">bri:</span> </strong>BRUH</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hope you enjoyed!! get excited for the next chapter because some stuff is gonna happen (but not in the way you think :0)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. It Is Definitely (Unfortunately) A Date</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“It’s probably not a date.”</p>
<p>“He literally called it one. I think it’s a date.”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>so sorry this is a day late!! was feeling a bit under the weather yesterday so it just slipped my mind.</p>
<p>in other news i got a tsoa tattoo on friday! if you're interested in seeing what it looks like i'll link the tumblr post i made about it at the end :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“It’s probably not a date.”</p>
<p>“He literally called it one. I think it’s a date.”</p>
<p>Pat sighs as he jiggles the door handle to one of the maintenance closets on the fifth floor of the building. Him and Briseis were on rounds that night, meaning they had to walk every floor of the building to make sure the closets were still locked and none of the residents were throwing parties that night. Given that it was Friday, and only the second week of school, there were definitely parties happening, but as long as they weren’t loud they turned a blind eye.</p>
<p>He and Achilles had been talking almost every day since they had dinner together a week ago; he’d come hang out in Pat’s room to do homework and study most evenings, which often resulted in them eating together as well. They were certainly moving faster than any of Pat’s previous friendships had—they talked about everything and nothing, sharing something funny one of them had seen on campus, talking about classes, relationships, what music they were listening to…</p>
<p>In the back of Pat’s mind, he knows he should be alarmed at how fast it was moving, especially given the more…intimate moments they’d shared recently.</p>
<p>(“You have something on your cheek.”</p>
<p>“Oh, thanks.”</p>
<p>“You missed it. Here, let me…” And if Achilles hand lingered on his face for a moment longer than necessary, neither of them said anything.)</p>
<p>For one, Pat was still his RA, and they were expressly forbidden from dating their residents. Second, he still couldn’t shake the feeling that the other shoe was about to drop. There would be some catch, there <em>had </em>to be, because no one like Achilles willingly spent so much of their time with someone like Patroclus.</p>
<p>These worries had increased tenfold when the younger boy had called in their ‘date’, asking Pat to come by after rounds that night to listen to him play.</p>
<p>“Well, it shouldn’t be a date, Bri. You know that we’re not supposed to date our residents. It’s an abuse of power.”</p>
<p>She merely rolled her eyes as they descended the stairwell to the fourth floor. “Do you really feel like you’re abusing your power to make him hang out with you so much?”</p>
<p>“I mean, no, I guess not, but it’s still inappropriate. And I can’t risk losing this job. I just can’t.” She looks a bit more sympathetic to that, and she brings a comforting arm around his shoulders as they step into the fourth floor.</p>
<p>“That’s…fair. Well, if it gets to that point, just tell him that. He does know about the whole thing with your dad, right?”</p>
<p>Patroclus looks away as they walk onto the fourth floor. He knows he should, because Achilles has pretty much told him everything about his own family, even ranting to Pat about his almost too easy-going father and his slightly neurotic mother. But part of him wants to keep that piece of information about himself back, if only because he’s not sure Achilles would understand what it’s like to have a father that wishes you were never born in the first place.</p>
<p>He’s about to respond when a blond head pokes out from a doorway. Pat instantly straightens up and can’t help the giddy smile forming on his face. Despite his reservations about their relationship, he still enjoys being around the almost-godling.</p>
<p>(That moniker had arisen from a conversation earlier that week, when Pat had stumbled across Achilles running up and down the stairwell for exercise.</p>
<p>“Jesus, you’re like one of those old demigod heroes or something. I’m getting tired just watching you.”</p>
<p>“What, like Hercules or something?</p>
<p>“Heracles, technically, but yeah.”)</p>
<p>Achilles raises a hand in greeting, and he waves back in earnest. “What’s up?”</p>
<p>“Nothing much. Just rounds with Bri.” Briseis waves as well, offering a smile of her own.</p>
<p>“Still on for our music date?”</p>
<p>Patroclus can almost <em>hear </em>the smug smile on Bri’s face, which he pointedly decides to ignore. “Yup, just got three more floors and then I’ll be back.” Achilles gives a satisfied nod and head back into his room, leaving the two RAs to continue walking down the hallway.</p>
<p>Once they’ve entered the next stairwell, Briseis sighs, “You know, I hate to say it, but every conversation I witness I think I hate him a little more.”</p>
<p>This makes Pat do a double take. “Wait, what?”</p>
<p>“I mean, come on. When you’re around it’s like no one else matters. I think in these past, what, two and a half weeks we’ve known him, he’s said, like, three words to me.”</p>
<p>“Kinda sounds like you’re a little jealous.”</p>
<p>“<em>Pat. </em>I’m being serious.”</p>
<p>“Sorry, sorry.” Pat pushes the door to the third floor open, trying not to speed through their rounds so he can go back to Achilles. “I admit he can be a little…single-minded.”</p>
<p>“Just…be careful. I admit, he’s hot and everything, but he seems…well, he seems like he stops at nothing to get what he wants, and once he gets it, he’s on to the next thing.”</p>
<p>Pat nods, and he can’t help the sinking feeling that Briseis might be right.</p>
<p>“I’m still going to encourage you to at least bone him, though, because <em>God </em>do you need it.”</p>
<p>“Oh my God, shut up, <em>please.</em>”</p>
<p>“Seriously. You got a boner after seeing him eat ice cream. You need the release.”</p>
<p>“That’s it, we’re not talking anymore. And I’m definitely not telling you how tonight goes.”</p>
<p>“You don’t mean that.”</p>
<p>“…Okay, but I’m not telling you <em>everything</em>—ow, Bri, that hurt—”</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>True to his word, Patroclus heads up to Achilles’ room once they finish their rounds, promising Bri to give her some sort of update afterward despite his earlier threat. The door is closed, so Pat knocks and stands there awkwardly before it swings open, revealing Achilles in all his unfairly perfect glory.</p>
<p>He follows Achilles into the room after they share giddy smiles and greetings. There’s no seating in the room, so Pat hops up onto the bed. The room looks pretty much the same, with the exception of the keyboard that Achilles is now sitting in front of.</p>
<p>“What, was the piano on the first floor not good enough?” He jokes.</p>
<p>Achilles smiles sheepishly. “When I told my dad I decided to take that piano class, he sent this. ‘In case you need privacy,’ I think is what he said.”</p>
<p>“Wow.”</p>
<p>“Yeah.” He turns the keyboard on before shifting to face Patroclus. “So, anything in particular that you want to hear?”</p>
<p>“Uh…” Pat tries to rack his brain for any song he’d want the other to play, but as with every time he needs his brain to function, he comes up empty. “Just play one of your favorites.”</p>
<p>Achilles pauses to think for a moment before turning toward the keyboard again. He takes a breath before gently playing a few chords that Pat instantly recognizes. “Oh! I know this one.”</p>
<p>“Yeah?” The other boy calls back, not pausing in his playing.</p>
<p>“It's Gym—uh, gym…something.”</p>
<p>“Gymnopédie No. 1 by Erik Satie,” Achilles supplies, his fingers gracefully dancing over the keys. It’s mesmerizing, and Patroclus finds himself leaning in a little to watch.</p>
<p>He nods, even though Achilles can’t see him. “Yeah, that one.”</p>
<p>“Where’d you hear it?”</p>
<p>“Oh, um, probably one of those Spotify playlists or something.” And definitely not that one YouTube video ‘Gymnopédie No. 1 but your depressed neighbor won’t stop playing that song for an hour in a row’, definitely not, because that would just be depressing.</p>
<p>Achilles hums. “It’s one of my favorites. I like how peaceful it is. My life moves a little fast sometimes, so…it slows me down a little. Keeps me in the moment. It’s why I like music so much.” He doesn’t know why, but Pat feels like this is one of the most real things Achilles has ever said to him. Sure, he rants about his family, and sometimes overshares about his personal life, but this admission felt…different.</p>
<p>He doesn’t comment on it, though, content to just sit and listen as Achilles finishes the song. Pat’s tempted to ask him to play it again, but he’s standing up and grabbing his guitar before he can say anything. “Scooch over.”</p>
<p>Pat shuffles toward the head of the bed as Achilles sits cross-legged in front of him, his guitar on his lap. He tunes it quickly, and Pat can’t help but stare at how beautiful he looks hunched over his guitar.</p>
<p>He starts strumming, and Pat opens his mouth to joke about not being able to request a song this time—and then Achilles starts singing. </p>
<p>And Patroclus knows in that moment that he might be in too deep.</p>
<p>Achilles’ voice is like honey, golden and glowing, filling Pat with warmth that spreads to his toes. <em>If he wasn’t a god at running, </em>he thinks, <em>he should be doing this forever.</em></p>
<p>The song is short and sweet, with lyrics of new beginnings and summer days with wind in your hair, but Pat is so entranced by Achilles’ voice and his lips that he can barely listen to what he’s actually singing. When the song is finished, Achilles looks up at him expectantly, almost nervously, and all he can do is smile.</p>
<p>“That was amazing,” he whispers (though he’s not sure why he doesn’t say it at full volume—maybe it’s the feeling of a bubble around this moment, protecting them from the world and tucking them in together, and speaking too loudly would break it).</p>
<p>Achilles just grins his perfect grin, setting his guitar down gently and inching forward on the bed a little. The rational part of his mind is telling Pat that this has gone too far, that he can’t risk losing his job for this, but the rest of him is alight with desire as Achilles reaches a hesitant hand to his face. The pads of his fingers feel so, <em>so </em>soft against his skin, and he has to fight to keep his eyes from fluttering closed.</p>
<p>“Patroclus,” he murmurs, and that’s all it takes for Pat to lean forward and finally give in a little.</p>
<p>The kiss is soft, like Achilles, too, was afraid of breaking their little bubble. He sighs, and the other boy smiles into the kiss at the sound, reaching his hand to gently wrap around the back of Patroclus’ head.</p>
<p><em>There is nothing that could ruin this, </em>he thinks as Achilles’ tongue tenderly swipes against his bottom lip, <em>it will be this, for as long as he will let me. </em></p>
<p>And then he hears Agamemnon’s voice in the hall, talking to his brother, and that rational part of his mind starts blaring alarm bells. He pulls back in a panic, causing Achilles’ hand to slip from its previous position. “Patroclus? What’s wrong?”</p>
<p>“I—we—we can’t do this, I’m sorry—”</p>
<p>Achilles looks so <em>heartbroken </em>that it almost kills him, almost makes him take it all back so they can go back to kissing. “What do you mean?”</p>
<p>“Achilles, listen—we just can’t. I’m your RA, and I can’t risk losing my job—”</p>
<p>He merely frowns in response, clearly not sensing the gravity of the situation. “We don’t have to be public, if that’s what you’re worried about.”</p>
<p>“You’re not understanding—”</p>
<p>“Then make me understand.”</p>
<p>Patroclus hesitates, still afraid to share that one last part of himself, and it’s enough for Achilles to close off and his expression to harden. “Wait, just give me a minute.”</p>
<p>“No, I get it. You should probably get back to your RA duties, then. Since they’re clearly so important.”</p>
<p>“Jesus, Achilles, if you would stop talking for a <em>second </em>and let me explain—”</p>
<p>That was clearly the wrong thing to say. “Pat. Just go.”</p>
<p>He’s so shocked at the use of his nickname, almost certain that Achilles has never called him that before, that it takes him a moment before he can shake himself from the hurt and move off of the bed. Achilles watches him walk to the door, his face masked with the same impassive expression he regards everyone else with. <em>Everyone but me, </em>Pat thinks dejectedly.</p>
<p>The sound of the door swinging shut feels like it puts a crack in his heart, and the only thing he can do is keep himself from letting out a choked sob until his own door closes behind him.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>            <strong>pat: </strong>movie night tomorrow? with enough ice cream to make me diabetic?</p>
<p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span></strong> yikes</p>
<p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span></strong> that bad, huh?</p>
<p>            <strong>pat: </strong>can we just talk about it tomorrow?</p>
<p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span></strong> of course</p>
<p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span></strong> want to go to the garden section at walmart tomorrow too? i’ll buy you a plant</p>
<p>            <strong>pat: </strong>yes please</p>
<p>            <strong>pat: </strong>you’re the best</p>
<p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span></strong> you are too, you know</p>
<p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span></strong> the bestest</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hope you enjoyed! it gets spicier from here! :3</p>
<p>pic of my tsoa tattoo: https://svedone.tumblr.com/post/640505530311426048</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Don't We All Just Want Our Own Mr. Darcy?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>At least the hard part is over, he thinks to himself. There’s no way it can get worse than this.</p>
<p>It gets much, much worse than this.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you so much for all the love on the past chapters!! hope you enjoy this one!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He wakes up at noon, having stayed up late into the night, laying in his bed numbly and thinking of all the things he should’ve done differently. It’s Briseis’ knock that eventually makes him get up, and he gratefully accepts the coffee she’s brought him before quickly getting ready.</p>
<p>Throughout the bus ride to Walmart, she shoots Pat concerned glances but says nothing, waiting for him to start the conversation first. He pretends not to notice, trying to gather up the strength to talk about how awful the previous night was. It’s ridiculous, really, he thinks as they walk toward the garden center, how this situation could’ve been avoided if he had just told Achilles why this job was so important to him. He hates that his biggest problem right now was the result of poor communication, something he always nitpicks in dumb TV shows and movies when it’s used as a source of conflict.</p>
<p><em>My life feels like a poorly written fanfiction right now, </em>he briefly thinks. <em>And it sucks.</em></p>
<p>They’re looking at the row of succulents when he finally talks about it. “We kissed. Last night.”</p>
<p>Briseis looks at him cautiously, setting down the plant she had previously been surveying. “Oh?”</p>
<p>“Yeah. And it was great, like, <em>really </em>great, until I heard Agamemnon in the hall and started freaking out.”</p>
<p>“…Oh.”</p>
<p>“And he was hurt, understandably, when I said we shouldn’t be doing…that. And he asked me to explain and I just—I got nervous because I hadn’t exactly told him about everything with my dad, and I guess he took that as me not really wanting anything to do with him at all, so he told me to leave, even when I tried explaining again. So I left. And I know if I had just stopped being such a fuck-up that I could’ve stopped this from happening, but—”</p>
<p>He’s interrupted by Briseis throwing her arms around him and squeezing tightly. “Pat, you’re not a fuck-up. Sure, a bit more communication would’ve helped, but he also should’ve seen that you were sincere about the reason and trying to explain something that’s hard for you to talk about.” She stands back to look at him but still grasps his shoulders in comfort. “It sounds like you really tried to explain yourself, and he wasn’t letting you. I’m not saying you’re free of blame here, but…he should’ve listened.”</p>
<p>“I get that, but he’s always been so open with me, and I should’ve told him sooner—”</p>
<p>“Just because he’s open with you, doesn’t mean you have to match that. Not everyone can talk about those sorts of things that easily. You talk about it when you’re ready to, not when other people are. You’re the only one who can decide that.”</p>
<p>Pat nods, still feeling a bit stupid for having such a large hand in causing his own problems, but a bit better nonetheless. “Thanks, Bri. You’re a lot better at this than I am.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, well, like you always say, I’m the best. Now hurry up and pick a plant, I already told you that I’m buying.”</p>
<p>“What? No, I can buy—”</p>
<p>“Nope. Not letting you. Pick one so we can head back and eat ourselves into a coma while watching <em>Pride and Prejudice.</em>”</p>
<p>Pat smiles gratefully. “You know me so well.”</p>
<p>“Little do you know, it’s just a ploy for me to swoon over Kiera Knightley.”</p>
<p>“I respect that.”</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>He ends up picking out a philodendron, one of those long, vine-y plants that are (thankfully) very hard to kill, and it now hangs from his curtain rod. Pat glances at it now, swaddled in his blankets with Briseis, as the movie plays on his laptop. He’s totally not illegally streaming it.</p>
<p>The more he thinks about the situation, the more stupid he feels. He’d known Achilles for two and a half weeks, and he was letting himself be <em>this </em>upset about it? How ridiculous. Sure, it sucked, but he’d done his best, and all Pat could do now was move on from the situation more knowledgeable than he was before.</p>
<p>“I should text him,” he suddenly says.</p>
<p>“That is probably the last thing you should do.”</p>
<p>“Wait, not like that. I just mean—I want to actually explain to him. Just to give me some peace of mind about it.”</p>
<p>Briseis huffs and pauses the movie, right on the scene in the rain where Mr. Darcy confesses his love to Elizabeth. “Are you sure you’re ready to share that? What’s different now from last night?”</p>
<p>“That’s the thing. I was going to explain last night, but I didn’t exactly, y’know, have the chance to before he pretty much kicked me out. So I want to now.”</p>
<p>She pauses and thinks for a moment before settling back into the blankets. “This is the only time I will ever condone someone texting their ex.”</p>
<p>“First,” Pat says as he extracts his phone from their collection of blankets, “he’s not my ex, since we were never dating. Second, thanks for your permission, mom.”</p>
<p>“You’re welcome. Now shush so I can watch the movie.”</p>
<p>Briseis presses play as he types out a message to Achilles.</p>
<p><strong>              patroclus: </strong>hey, achilles. i’m really, really sorry about last night. what i wanted to explain was that i really can’t afford to lose this job because i won’t have anywhere to live otherwise. my dad used to pay for my housing, but he pretty much disowned me last year and being an ra was the only way i could get my housing paid for.</p>
<p><strong>              patroclus: </strong>i’m sorry i didn’t tell you sooner. my dad is kind of. not great. and it’s a little hard for me to talk about, and part of me worried that you might not understand even though i know that’s stupid.</p>
<p><strong>              patroclus: </strong>i really, really like you. </p>
<p><strong>              patroclus: </strong>like. a lot.</p>
<p><strong>              patroclus: </strong>but i can’t risk not having somewhere to live and i’m sorry</p>
<p><strong>              patroclus: </strong>i hope we can still be friends but i understand if we can’t</p>
<p>
  <em>              sent 6:48 pm.</em>
</p>
<p>He reads over the texts a few more times before putting his phone down, satisfied, and returning to the movie. God, he really loves <em>Pride and Prejudice. </em></p>
<p>-</p>
<p>
  <em>            sent 6:48 pm.</em>
</p>
<p>The words taunt him the more he looks at them. It’s now Sunday morning, and Achilles hasn’t even opened the text message, much less responded. At this point, Pat would be fine with just an “ok”, if only so he knew that the message had been received and he could leave the whole debacle in the past.</p>
<p><em>At least the hard part is over, </em>he thinks to himself. <em>There’s no way it can get worse than this. </em></p>
<p>It gets much, much worse than this.</p>
<p>Pat sees them as he leaves his room to take a shower, because frankly, he feels a little disgusting after eating a pint and a half of ice cream last night. He’s rearranging his shower caddy and towel as he locks his door, casually glancing down the hall (definitely not looking towards Achilles’ door)—</p>
<p>Just in time to see one of his residents—Deidameia, he’s pretty sure—giving Achilles a long hug and walking back to her dorm. What’s worse is she’s definitely wearing one of his shirts, and Achilles is standing in his doorway wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants.</p>
<p>Pat stands there a moment in shock. <em>What the fuck, </em>are the only words coming to mind in that moment. Then Achilles turns, and their gazes meet, and he swears he can see the other boy <em>flinch. </em>He doesn’t look long enough to really tell, though, because the minute they make eye contact he spins around and speed walks to the bathrooms.</p>
<p>He hates to admit that he plays Falling by Harry Styles during his shower a few times too many, as cliché as it is. There’s even a moment where he considers sitting down in the shower, but he doesn’t really want to get athlete’s foot in his ass, so he settles for leaning against the wall. <em>This is fine, </em>Pat attempts to reason with himself. <em>He’s free to do whatever he wants. I rejected him. Kind of.</em></p>
<p>It still hurts, because wow, could Achilles really not have waited, like, a week before doing something like this? But after a little while the hurt dissolves into anger, and then into self-righteous fury, and by the end of the shower Patroclus has convinced himself that really, he dodged a bullet here. If Achilles had really done this mere days after whispering Pat’s name like a prayer and kissing him so tenderly, what would their relationship be like if they had even been allowed to date?</p>
<p>Once he’s back in his room and dressed, he furiously types out a text to Briseis.</p>
<p>            <strong>pat: </strong>we are officially allowed to hate achilles now</p>
<p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span></strong> fuck yeah</p>
<p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span></strong> wait what happened tho</p>
<p><strong>            <span class="u">bri:</span></strong> don’t get me wrong, i’m all for this, just want to know the reason we’ll be talking shit about him for the next week or so</p>
<p>            <strong>pat:</strong> pretty sure he hooked up with one of the girls on the floor last night</p>
<p>            <strong>pat: </strong>i just saw them hug way too long to just be friendly, and she was wearing his shirt</p>
<p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span></strong> …</p>
<p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span></strong> i’m gonna kick his ass</p>
<p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span></strong> hope he’s ready to catch these hands</p>
<p><strong>            pat: </strong>somehow i don’t think you could win in a fight against a star athlete but i’ll still be rooting for you</p>
<p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span></strong> i don’t give a fuck</p>
<p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span></strong> i’ll fucking bite him or some shit</p>
<p>            <strong>pat: </strong>that’s…weirdly kinky?</p>
<p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span></strong> not when i give him rabies</p>
<p>            <strong>pat: </strong>HUH??????</p>
<p>            <strong>pat: </strong>RUN THAT BY ME ONE MORE TIME????</p>
<p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span></strong> :)</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>They’re sitting in the lounge later that night, working on their bulletin boards for the month of September. Pat’s theme for that month is about making friends, which leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. They’d spent the last hour or so ranting about Achilles as the worked, but having run out of insults to come up with, they’re now listening to music and cutting out pictures for their boards.</p>
<p>Pat makes a particularly aggressive snip when Briseis sets her scissors down. “I’ve got it.”</p>
<p>“Hm?” He replies distractedly, imagining the piece of paper he’s currently cutting up is Achilles’ stupidly beautiful face.</p>
<p>“You need a distraction. We should go out next weekend. You, me, and the gay bar downtown.”</p>
<p>He sets his scissors down as well, looking at her with exasperation. “Neither of us are twenty-one.”</p>
<p>“I have a fake, and they allow nineteen-year-olds in the bar, remember?” She rolls her eyes. “Besides, that didn’t stop you last year from getting hammered when the bartender gave you free drinks after your…performance.”</p>
<p>“Ugh, don’t call it that. Still, it’s not a good look for two underage RAs to go out to the bars.”</p>
<p>“You and I both know that Agamemnon keeps a mini-fridge full of beers in his room, which is definitely against the rules. C’mon, Pat, it’ll be fun. Pleeeaaaaase,” she begs, looking at Pat with a terribly convincing pout and batting her eyelashes.</p>
<p>“…Fine.”</p>
<p>“Yes!”</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>The week passes with little incident; Achilles no longer sits next to him in bio, and Pat is able to keep his mind (somewhat) off of the younger boy due to the mounting work he has now that the semester is in full swing. He finds that he’s actually looking forward to that weekend and a chance to let loose a little (though he’d never admit that to Briseis).</p>
<p>His bio lab starts that week, too, and while he has the same lab section as Achilles, they are thankfully not paired with each other. Instead, he finds himself sitting at a lab table with a junior by the name of Hector, who explains that this class is his last gen-ed he needs to fulfill.</p>
<p>(Hector is also incredibly handsome and polite, but that’s just an innocent observation on Patroclus’ part.)</p>
<p>They chat a little as they go through their lab worksheet, and he finds out that Hector is a pre-law student on the football team.</p>
<p>“What about you?”</p>
<p>“Oh, I’m undecided right now. I was business last year but didn’t end up liking it that much.”</p>
<p>Hector nods. “I wouldn’t peg you as the business type. You should think about biology, though. You’re pretty much carrying this lab assignment.”</p>
<p>“Oh, um, thanks! I just like bio, I guess.” Patroclus feels a flush of pride at the older boy’s—more like man, he supposes—words. “I’ll have to think about it.”</p>
<p>“Please do. You’re really smart. I’m glad we got partnered up.”</p>
<p>“Me too,” he grins, and if he notices how Achilles watches the interaction with burning focus, Pat definitely doesn’t think anything of it.</p>
<p>He’s feeling pretty upbeat by the time Friday night rolls around, though he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss Achilles a little bit. It wasn’t just because he thought about their kiss more often than he’d like to, but more so that Pat simply missed being his friend. It became achingly clear whenever he’d make a comment to Briseis that he would’ve normally made to Achilles, and it never landed the same as it had with the boy.</p>
<p><em>Achilles would’ve laughed at that, </em>he’d catch himself thinking. <em>Oh, Achilles would’ve done this, and this, and this. </em></p>
<p>Regardless of how much he still thought about Achilles, Pat was still eager for the night as he set his backpack down in his room, ready for time with Briseis and the distraction going out would bring.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>"how could you do this achilles," i whisper to myself, typing the very words that make achilles Do That</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Pat Is Panicking! At The Disco</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This is one of his favorite parts of being in college: the absolute freedom he feels as he walks downtown with Briseis by his side. The night is warm, and the streets are full of the sound of college students and faint music. It makes him feel alive, and the atmosphere of his college town’s night life is almost enough to take his mind off of Achilles completely.</p>
<p>(Almost.)</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you all so much for all of the lovely comments and feedback! this week was a bit hectic bc i moved back to school and went to a few retreats for one of my leadership positions, so i wasn't able to respond like i usually do, but i promise i read them all!!!</p>
<p>as i'm back at school, updates will now only be on sundays. i have a pretty full schedule this semester (including a daily latin class, woop woop!) so once a week is just a little easier for me.</p>
<p>hope you enjoy this chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I’m telling you, the white shirt looks way better.”</p>
<p>Pat huffs and pulls of the black tee to put the white V-neck back on. He has to admit, the white contrasts with his skin nicely, which Briseis seems to agree with.</p>
<p>“See? You look like a golden god. Your complexion is so good, it’s unfair,” she says, looking him over, satisfied that he took her advice. She hops off his bed to mess with his hair a little, making sure the normally frayed black curls are a bit more orderly. Once she finishes, she stands back and gives him another once-over. “Perfect. You’ll definitely be the one getting our drinks tonight.”</p>
<p>“Are you joking?” Pat looks her outfit over; she’s wearing ripped jeans that accentuate her legs nicely, and her top certainly helps in showing off her chest. “I’m gay, and even I can’t stop looking at your boobs. Besides, you’re the one with the fake.”</p>
<p>She sticks her tongue out in response before glancing at herself in the mirror and pushing her boobs up for good measure. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I do look pretty good. Alright, you ready to go?”</p>
<p>“If by go, you mean go and get wasted, then yes, absolutely.”</p>
<p>Bri rolls her eyes playfully as they walk out of his dorm. Thankfully, Achilles is nowhere in sight, so they head out of the building and start walking downtown with no issue.</p>
<p>This is one of his favorite parts of being in college: the absolute freedom he feels as he walks downtown with Briseis by his side. The night is warm, and the streets are full of the sound of college students and faint music. It makes him feel alive, and the atmosphere of his college town’s night life is almost enough to take his mind off of Achilles completely.</p>
<p>(Almost.)</p>
<p>They get into the bar easily; the bouncer doesn’t even take a second glance at Briseis’ fake ID, and Pat just gets a stamp on his hand signifying that he’s under twenty-one (though it’s already wiping off pretty easily, and he imagines a few minutes in a packed bar will produce enough sweat to get rid of it completely).  </p>
<p>“I’ll get us some drinks,” Bri yells over the music. Pat nods in response as he moves toward the edge of the bar, managing to snag two spots on a bench. His head faintly bobs to the music as he waits.</p>
<p>The bar looks the same as it did last year, though the stage they used for drag shows was nowhere in sight. Before, they would come on Thursday nights to see the performances, but their schedules hadn’t favored them this semester to give them Fridays off, and neither of them wanted to deal with being hungover in class.</p>
<p>As he surveys the room, he spots a familiar figure in the throng of college students—it’s Hector, dancing with a tall, brown-haired girl that he thinks must be Hector’s girlfriend. By a pure stroke of luck, he spots Pat, and heads over with the girl in tow.</p>
<p>“Patroclus! I didn’t know you were twenty-one,” he says over the music.</p>
<p>“Oh, I’m not,” Pat replies, quickly standing and holding up his hand to show the almost-faded stamp. Hector nods with a knowing smile before looking over at the girl.</p>
<p>“This is Andromache, my girlfriend.”</p>
<p>Andromache smiles and sticks out a hand. “It’s nice to meet you. You’re Hector’s lab partner, right? He calls you a godsend.”</p>
<p>Pat laughs as he shakes her hand. “I just like bio, I guess.”</p>
<p>“Hector is the same with law. Great at dinner parties, not so great in arguments.”</p>
<p>They share a laugh as Briseis comes back with shots in hand. “Thanks, Bri.” He takes one of the shots and clinks with her before downing it quickly, nose scrunching as the alcohol burns down his throat. “Ugh, Fireball?”</p>
<p>“You know it,” she smiles. “Are you going to introduce me?”</p>
<p>“Oh, yeah! Briseis, this is Hector and Andromache. Hector and I are lab partners for bio.” They all share a smile, and Andromache quickly starts up a conversation with Briseis.</p>
<p>Hector shifts closer to Patroclus. “Want to dance?”</p>
<p>“Uh…” He glances over at the other man’s girlfriend, who merely gives an easy smile and waves them off.</p>
<p>“Go have fun.”</p>
<p>Hector leads a very confused Pat onto the dance floor. “I might not be the best at reading people,” he shouts, even harder to be heard now that they’re closer to the speakers blaring music, “but didn’t you say she was, y’know, your girlfriend?”</p>
<p>“Open relationship,” he says into Patroclus’ ear. Pat glances back over to Andromache, who is currently wrapping a lock of Briseis’ hair around her finger. “We’ve been dating a long time. We’re comfortable with each other.”</p>
<p>“Ah. That—that makes sense.” At least, it makes much more sense now as to why a ‘straight’ couple would be in a gay bar. He is suddenly a lot more nervous than he was five seconds ago; he’s never really…fooled around with anyone, much less someone in an open relationship. Pat has no idea what that really entails or what Hector and Andromache have agreed is okay to do with other people.</p>
<p>“Pat,” Hector murmurs, placing a gentle hand on his waist, sending pricks of lightning through Pat’s body. “We don’t have to dance if you’re uncomfortable. I promise I won’t mind.”</p>
<p>“No. No, I want to dance with you. Like, <em>really </em>want to.” And he’s not lying, not in the slightest—Hector is handsome, polite, and currently giving Patroclus a look that makes his knees wobble a little (though that might be due, in part, to the shot he’d just taken).</p>
<p>The older boy flashes him a pleased smile, and it’s enough to give Pat the courage to turn around and start moving his hips to the rhythm. Hector places his other hand on Pat’s waist, gently tugging him so Pat’s back and Hector’s chest are touching (among other…things), and all Pat can think is <em>holy shit, his hands are fucking huge.</em></p>
<p>It doesn’t take long for him to lose himself in the music. Hector’s presence and the Fireball making its way through his body certainly helps, but Pat has always liked to dance, which was probably the biggest reason he and Briseis would go out so often last year (especially since Patroclus is normally too socially awkward to bar hop). He can tell he’s doing a rather good job by the hardness he can feel pressing into his backside, and a small, triumphant smile quickly forms on his face.</p>
<p>“You’re really good at this,” Hector hums, his lips brushing against the shell of Pat’s ear. The feeling sends a pleasant shiver down his spine. “It seems we’ve gained an audience.” He nods his head to the side of the room, and Pat looks over and immediately groans.</p>
<p><em>How the fuck did he know I was here. </em>Achilles is currently leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching the two of them with barely concealed rage. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”</p>
<p>“Know him?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, you could say that.”</p>
<p>Hector looks thoughtful for a moment before a slow smile spreads on his face. “We could give him a show, if you’d like.”</p>
<p>Patroclus is so, <em>so </em>glad that Hector seems to instantly understand the current situation between him and Achilles. “Oh, what the hell, let’s do it. More alcohol first, though.” Hector chuckles before grabbing Pat’s hand, and he lets himself be led to the bar. He orders a double vodka cran, and the bartender glances down at his hand, where the stamp has completely wiped off.</p>
<p>Once the drink is slid in front of him, he grabs it and immediately downs it before he can think twice. A little bit dribbles down his chin, and Hector wipes it off with his thumb. Pat can’t help but stare, transfixed, as the man slowly puts the thumb in his mouth and licks the errant alcohol off.</p>
<p>“Holy shit,” is all he can think to say.</p>
<p>They move back onto the dance floor, Pat’s blood pumping with liquid courage, and quickly resume their dancing. It’s much more sensual than earlier, given his already-tipsy state. He’s not exactly a lightweight, but it’s been months since he’d last had alcohol, when he and Briseis had celebrated getting through their first year of college successfully. He certainly wasn’t allowed to drink in his father’s house, so his tolerance had understandably gone down a bit.</p>
<p>He glances over to the side of the room, and sure enough, Achilles is still watching them with narrowed eyes. Hector seems to see it too, because he flips Patroclus around to face him. “Are you still okay with this?”</p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>“Can I kiss you?”</p>
<p>Pat takes a moment to consider. He’s buzzed, yes, and can feel himself getting drunker, but he knows he’s absolutely certain he wants Hector to kiss him. “Please.”</p>
<p>Hector searches his face before leaning down to kiss him. The kiss is so opposite of what Pat knows about the man; while Hector is the picture of a gentleman, the kiss is anything but. It’s searing, wet, and when Hector’s tongue sweeps into Patroclus’ mouth, he’s powerless to stop the groan that sounds from the back of his throat. They continue to move in time with the music, and Pat’s dick is so hard that he vaguely wonders if it’s possible for a zipper to break from a boner.</p>
<p>The kiss is abruptly ended when someone grabs Pat’s shoulder and wrenches him a way. His confusion quickly melts to horror as he watches Achilles wind his arm back and punch Hector squarely in the face.</p>
<p>“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” He yells, grabbing Achilles and heaving him backwards. Hector looks only vaguely annoyed from the punch and starts cracking his knuckles. Before he can do anything, one of the bouncers breaks through the crowd of people now forming a circle around the three of them. He grabs Hector and Achilles by the arm, and Pat quickly follows them outside.</p>
<p>Once the bouncer leaves, Pat repeats, seething, “What. The fuck. Is wrong with you.”</p>
<p>Achilles looks at him furiously. “What’s wrong with me? Are you joking? This douche bag was so clearly trying to take advantage of you.”</p>
<p>“He’s not—” His vision starts to swim, and, <em>God, </em>the alcohol hitting him in full force is the last thing Patroclus needs right now. “He’s not taking advantage of me.”</p>
<p>The other boy snorts. “You should see yourself right now. I’m taking you back to the dorm,” he says, moving forward, but is quickly stopped by Hector stepping forward and placing himself in front of Pat.</p>
<p>“I think you should get the hell out of here before I do something we’ll both regret.”</p>
<p>“And leave him alone with you? Fat chance.”</p>
<p>Hector levels him with a piercing glare. “You’re the one he doesn’t want to be alone with, it seems.”</p>
<p>Achilles looks to Patroclus. “Go back to your dorm, Achilles,” he pleads. The other boy furrows his brow, and for a moment Pat is worried he’s about to witness an all-out brawl, but Achilles just huffs and walks off.</p>
<p>He turns to Hector. “God, I am so sorry. I had no idea he would do something like that.”</p>
<p>“It’s alright. Not the first time I’ve been in a bar fight, though that was certainly the least bloody one. Is he your roommate, or something?”</p>
<p>Pat shakes his head, which is a mistake, because suddenly it is very hard for him to see straight. “No, I’m his RA.”</p>
<p>“Ah. I should probably take you back to my apartment, then, in case he tries waiting up for you. Andromache and your friend already left together.” Hector places a delicate hand on his shoulder and starts slowly guiding him away. “Before you ask, Andromache has her own apartment with her friends, so you won’t be hearing any of…that.”</p>
<p>Pat fumbles for his phone. He immediately sees texts from Briseis confirming that, yes, her and Andromache had left about ten minutes prior, which eases his mind a little. He then realizes the implications of leaving with Hector in the same way and starts to slightly panic. “Er, wait—”</p>
<p>“Patroclus,” Hector says gently, seeming to understand Pat’s worries. “You’re incredibly drunk and in no state to say yes to anything like that. I’ll sleep on the couch.”</p>
<p>“I’m not <em>that</em>…” He’s not sure if it’s the residual nerves from Achilles’ stunt or the alcohol (or perhaps a bit of both), but the last thing Patroclus remembers is turning and throwing up onto the side of a building.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>the S P I C E</p>
<p>huuuuge disclaimer: hector is not a bad guy here!! nothing bad happens to pat after his dramatic puking, i promise :) i tried to make it clear that pat is consenting for all of this but the lines do get a little fuzzy when substances are involved. consent is a complex issue (one that i actually teach other students at my university about frequently through workshops that i facilitate!) and i'd be more than happy to discuss it!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Hangovers Really Suck</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>They stop in front of the doorway to his building, and Hector places a hand on Pat’s shoulder. “Even if it doesn’t work out, you’ll both be better off knowing where the other stands. But do let me know if you need me to punch him. I still owe him for last night.”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>omg so sorry that this chapter is a tad late! first week of school was incredibly hectic and my weekend was spent catching up and doing meetings on zoom</p><p>also big thank you to everyone for leaving such wonderful comments! i usually try my hardest to respond to everyone but this past week was honestly a bit crazy so i've had quite a bit on my plate (especially because i might be changing my major and staying an extra year at school lmfao). i promise i read every single one of them, they always make my day!!!</p><p>hope you enjoy this chapter!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He wakes up the next morning in a bed that’s definitely not his. Pat’s mouth feels like cotton, and his head doesn’t feel much better. He gratefully downs the cup of water and the two Tylenol that’s been left at the bedside table as the memories of the previous night come swimming back to him.</p><p>To put it bluntly, he’s absolutely mortified. Last night did not go quite as he had planned, and while he had enjoyed his time with Hector, the memory of Achilles punching him in the face left a horrible taste in his mouth (though that might just be his morning breath, to be fair).</p><p>He hesitantly exits what he assumes to be Hector’s bedroom to see the man cooking breakfast. <em>God, could this guy get any more perfect? </em>When he turns around and sees Pat, he smiles. “Good morning.” Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to be fazed by the events that transpired at the bar, which makes Patroclus feel a hell of a lot better.</p><p>“Hi. Listen, I am so sorry about last night, I—”</p><p>“Patroclus,” Hector interrupts with a smile, “it’s alright. Honestly. I had fun.”</p><p>“Uh…you did?”</p><p>“Well, getting punched in the face wasn’t <em>that </em>enjoyable,” he rubs the side of his face as he says this, “but other than that I had a good time.”</p><p>Pat is still incredibly confused as to how the other man could’ve possibly had fun, but nonetheless he lets a small smile grow on his face. “Oh. Me too.”</p><p>“I’m glad.”</p><p>They fall into a comfortable silence as Hector plates the food and slides it in front of Pat. He digs in gratefully, the food easing his empty stomach and the remnants of his mortification. “Um, we didn’t…y’know…”</p><p>“Absolutely not. You were pretty much gone by the time I got you here. I’m starting to feel like I probably shouldn’t have even kissed you last night.”</p><p>“No!” He exclaims, a little bit of scrambled egg spewing out of his mouth. “No, I enjoyed that. I meant it when I said yes.” Hector visibly relaxes at this. “But—but thank you, for taking care of me last night.”</p><p>Hector merely nods, and they both finish up their food quickly. “I’ll walk you back.”</p><p>“Oh, it’s okay, I can just—” Pat goes to take his phone out, intent on just putting his dorm’s address in Google Maps so he can walk back on his own, but the phone is completely dead.</p><p>The other man looks a bit sheepish. “Sorry about that. I would’ve charged it, but I didn’t have anything that worked with your phone.”</p><p>Ah, the curse of having an Android. “No worries. I mean, you pretty much carried me back last night, put out water and Tylenol for me, and you just made me breakfast. I think you’re good in that department.”</p><p>They share a laugh. After Hector cleans up the kitchen a little bit, they head out. The sun is entirely too bright, and his legs kind of feel like noodles, but with Hector’s steady frame beside him, Pat imagines he could be in much worse situations than this.</p><p>“So what are you planning on saying to him when you get back?” Hector asks as they near Patroclus’ dorm building.</p><p>“Um…” To be completely honest, Pat’s current plan was to ignore Achilles for as long as possible, but he quickly realizes that given his position as an RA and Achilles’…stubbornness, that might not work out. “I don’t know,” he settles for instead.</p><p>“That’s an answer for now, but I think you’ll have to figure it out soon. Do you mind if I give my opinion?”</p><p>“Not at all, go ahead.”</p><p>“He doesn’t seem like that bad of a kid. He probably honestly thought that I was trying to get you drunk last night, and while his method was a bit childish, he <em>was </em>trying to help you.”</p><p>Pat considers this and figures that Hector is probably right, no matter how much he hates to say it. “Yeah, that’s fair.”</p><p>“But it also seems like there’s quite a bit of miscommunication. On both ends.”</p><p>“That’s…also fair.” He hangs his head. Miscommunication seems to be the theme of his and Achilles’ relationship.</p><p>They stop in front of the doorway to his building, and Hector places a hand on Pat’s shoulder. “Even if it doesn’t work out, you’ll both be better off knowing where the other stands. But do let me know if you need me to punch him. I still owe him for last night.”</p><p>“Will do. Thanks, Hector.”</p><p>“Any time.”</p><p>-</p><p>As Pat stands in the elevator, he formulates a new plan. While it would probably be best for him to talk to Achilles as soon as possible, he’s still <em>incredibly </em>hungover, so he resolves to talk to the other boy sometime that week.</p><p>The elevator dings, and his new plan lasts for about five seconds. Achilles is sitting on the floor of the hallway directly in front of Pat’s door and scrambles to stand once he sees Patroclus emerge from the elevator.</p><p>Achilles opens his mouth to speak, but Pat is quick to interrupt him. “I’m way too hungover for this conversation. Move, please.”</p><p>He doesn’t move. “Are you okay?”</p><p>“I’m fine, Achilles. I’d be better if I could, y’know, go into my room and lay down.”</p><p>“We need to talk.”</p><p>“Yeah, no shit.”</p><p>Achilles merely crosses his arms, waiting for Patroclus to speak first. When it’s clear he won’t, the younger boy says, “I read your texts.”</p><p>“Uh-huh. And was that before or after you slept with someone else?”</p><p>“Wait, what?” He looks genuinely confused at the question, which only infuriates Pat further.</p><p>“God, you don’t even remember. I’m not doing this right now.”</p><p>“But I—”</p><p>“Leave. Me. Alone.” With that, Pat shoulders past him to unlock his door, opening and slamming it shut before Achilles can say anything else to royally piss him off. He pauses a moment and doesn’t exhale until he hears Achilles huff and walk away.</p><p><em>How does this keep managing to get even worse, </em>he groans internally as he flops onto his bed. content to fall back asleep, until he realizes that he should probably plug his phone on and let Briseis know he’s not dead.</p><p>It takes a few minutes for his phone to power on, and immediately he sees about ten texts and two missed calls from her.</p><p> </p><p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span></strong> hey just fyi andromache and are leaving</p><p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span></strong> have fun with hector ;)</p><p><strong>            <span class="u">bri:</span></strong> ok i’m going to spare your virgin ears the details but i think i might just swear off men for the rest of my life</p><p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span></strong> that was actually life changing</p><p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span></strong> pat? you good?</p><p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span></strong> if you’re dead i get to keep all your plants</p><p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span></strong> that was a joke</p><p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span></strong> (kind of)</p><p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span></strong> ok now i’m kind of worried</p><p>            <strong>pat:</strong> sorry, sorry, phone died</p><p>            <strong>pat:</strong> you’re gonna wanna come to my room because last night was. A Lot.</p><p> </p><p>Fifteen minutes later, there’s a knock at his door. “It’s open,” he calls out, and Briseis quickly walks in.</p><p>“Wow, you look like shit.”</p><p>“Thanks. Really appreciate it.”</p><p>She settles onto the bed, maneuvering his legs onto his lap so he can keep lying down. “So…”</p><p>He gives her a rundown of the night: dancing with Hector, kissing him, and Achilles stepping to ‘protect Pat’s honor’, all ending with Pat throwing up in the street and waking up in Hector’s bed.</p><p>“Did you and him…?”</p><p>Pat shakes his head furiously and immediately regrets the throbbing it causes. “No, not at all. He slept on the couch. He even made me breakfast.” He drags a hand down his face. “I’m so embarrassed. The worst part is Achilles was outside my door this morning, and he didn’t even know what I was talking about when I asked about him sleeping with Deidameia.”</p><p>“Wait, really?”</p><p>“Yeah. He looked actually confused. What an asshole.”</p><p>She’s silent for a few moments, before slowly saying, “Did you ever actually confirm that they definitely had sex?”</p><p>“Bri. She was wearing his shirt. I think that’s kind of a given.”</p><p>“But you didn’t see them, like, kiss or something?”</p><p>“Uh…no?”</p><p>“So all your evidence is circumstantial.”</p><p>He considers smacking her with one of his pillows, but even the thought requires more effort than he’d like to give. “You’re not actually suggesting that he didn’t sleep with her, are you? I thought you hated him. I don’t get why you’re trying to defend him now.”</p><p>“Don’t get me wrong, I still think he’s an asshole,” Bri says quickly. “But…even I have to admit, you might have jumped to conclusions.”</p><p>“Okay, regardless, he still punched a guy for kissing me. That’s crazy possessive.”</p><p>“Not if he honestly thought Hector was trying to get you drunk so he could have sex with you.”</p><p>Pat miserably squeezes his eyes shut and puts a pillow over his face. “God, I hate that you’re making so much sense right now.”</p><p>“You need to talk to him.”</p><p>“Yeah, that’s what everyone’s been saying. Can we please talk about something else right now?”</p><p>“Fine, fine. I’m sure you read my texts. Personally, my night was great.” Briseis gaze glazes over as she thinks back on the previous night.</p><p>He groans again. “Ew, not that either. I’m happy for you, but I really don’t need the details.”</p><p>“Suit yourself. Did you read Agamemnon’s text in the group chat?”</p><p>“This conversation keeps getting worse.” Nonetheless, Pat moves the pillow on his face and opens the group chat for the building’s RAs.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Achaean Hall RAs</strong>
</p><p><strong>            <span class="u">Agamemnon:</span></strong> Just a reminder that your required check-ins with your residents should start this week. I expect your report by the end of the month.</p><p>            <strong><span class="u">Agamemnon:</span> </strong>No exceptions.</p><p> </p><p><em>Shit. </em>He’d completely forgotten about that; all of the RAs were expected to check-in with each of their residents and submit a report to ensure that the freshmen were transitioning into college life successfully. “I gotta make a sign-up sheet for that. I’ll talk to you later.”</p><p>Briseis leaves after giving him a sympathetic pat on the shin. He quickly makes a sheet and sticks it to the wall outside his door before sending a quick text in the floor’s group chat.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>fourth floor achaean hall</strong>
</p><p><strong>            pat: </strong>hey everyone! hope the semester is going well. outside my door is a sign-up sheet for our check-ins; these are required by the university so please sign-up asap! thanks!</p><p>
  <em>            ace liked ‘hey everyone! hope the semester is…'</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Moments later, he hears someone outside his door. He waits a few seconds before poking his head out, and his expectations are very unfortunately met.</p><p>Achilles’ name is on the first slot for the next night.</p><p>-</p><p>            <strong><span class="u">bri:</span></strong> he signed up for the first time slot didn’t he</p><p>            <strong>pat: </strong>yeah.</p><p><strong>            <span class="u">bri:</span></strong> well hey at least now you don’t have to go through the awkward ‘we need to talk’ conversation</p><p><strong>            pat:</strong> whose side are you on here</p><p><strong>            <span class="u">bri:</span></strong> the side of ~love~</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>and finally we're getting to the point where they're gonna talk about their ~f e e l i n g s~</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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